


Shiny

by Seranna



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Silly, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seranna/pseuds/Seranna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sera really wants to know how Solas gets his head so shiny. She enlists help to find out. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiny

Sera doesn’t understand why she is dragged around with the bald elf all the time. Even Cassandra, with the people instinct of a brick, can see Sera doesn’t get along with the other elf. He is just so serious and glum and waves his stick about all over. The stick waving isn’t the worst of it – he’s just so _elfy_ , always like Arlathan this and Elvhen that. Sera is getting so sick of all this elf talk. It doesn’t help that the Inqy plays along with it all, asking Solas all these questions and actually listening for the answers. How Inquisitor Lavellan can listen to him spout off without blowing a few raspberries is beyond Sera. People are people, don’t matter if they got pointy ears or flat ears or horns for ears. But her Herald-ness eats it all up like it was snail served to a rich tit.

Sera has seen the looks exchanged between those two. She’d bet good money they’re alright bumping bits in their spare time. They practically spend all their time together anyway, chatting about stuff he does in the fade. That still gives her the ibby jibbies, dreaming about stuff supposed to have happened. Too much airy things she can’t hold on to and not enough solid.

As she continues to trail behind the Inqy, Solas and Cassandra, she begins to find herself mesmorized by the male elf’s head. Maybe it’s the dessert sun in the Western Approach making her delirious, or maybe the sulphur springs are getting to her head, but Sera couldn’t help but notice how _shiny_ Solas’s head is. The Elfy One can’t be more than, what, thirty or forty. His head is very bald for a man his age. Not just bald though, but glistening under the sun. She almost wanted to suggest that Solas uses his head to blind their enemies before attacking. A better thought dawned on her before she could speak. What if the other elf shines his head on purpose? Now Sera’s determined to find out, and she knows the perfect accomplice.

\----------

As usual, Inqy stops by the cluttered room Sera occupied in the tavern to ask her for her thoughts on the Inquisition, their companions, and blah blah blah. She tolerates the questions as usual, then springs her trap.

“Hey, remember when we pulled those pranks on your tight-arse advisors? How fun was that? You surprised me there, Inqy. Wouldn’t have pegged you for a fun one.”

“Thank you, Sera. I guess.” Lavellan replies. Sera can hear some uncertainty in her voice, as if she isn’t sure how to take the comment.

“Have you ever wondered about your elfy lover? The shite he must be up to when you’re not around. How about it then? Another prank?”

“What do you have in mind, Sera?” Now Lavellan’s voice sounds really suspicious. Sera can see she is not comfortable with the suggestion.

“Solas is sharing your room, innit? Let’s go poke around in his things, see what we can find.”

“Sera, despite the rumors going around, Solas is not sharing my room. Nor are we, as you would put it, ‘bumping bits’.”

“That’s disappointing. His stick is so far up his arse he can’t pull it out long enough to shag you? Don’t matter, are you up for poking about his stuff or what?” Sera can see that Lavellan is considering the proposal carefully. While Sera has already decided she’ll be getting to the bottom of this whether she has a partner or not. Having the Inqy around would result in less dead elves if Solas ever were to find them, and that’s a plus.

“Alright, one last time, Sera.” Lavellan replied at long last.

Sera giggles uncontrollably. “Let’s go! This will be fun!”

\----------

The base of the tower where Solas frequents is quite far removed from his quarters. Lavellan is unprepared for the question of where Solas actually sleeps. In truth, she has never considered such a question before. After Sera asks in her usual off-the-cuff manner, Lavellan stops dead in her track for a few seconds while thinking on all the empty rooms of Skyhold from her initial exploration of the castle. Finally, she answers hesitantly that she thinks he would be in one of the battlements of the walls which surround Skyhold. So that’s where they go, under the guise of the night.

Lavellan has already checked in at Solas’s usual haunt to ensure it is safe to proceed. She found Solas hunched over the desk in the centre of the tower as usual, entrenched in the latest rift magic book he acquired. He barely raised his eyes as she bent down to kiss him gently on the cheek. There were still many pages before Solas would finish this book. He would not rise from his seat for many hours yet. Lavellan strolled out of the tower as casually as she could to meet up with Sera at the entrance of the great hall.

“Well?” Sera asks impatiently.

“It should be safe.” Lavellan doesn’t want to relinquish more detail than that. She knows Sera would just make rude remarks if she knows Solas will be spending the night pouring over a book. After all, reading is hardly Sera’s preferred choice of activity. Lavellan imagines many of Sera’s preferred activities involve sticking sharp objects into others.

“Good. Let’s do it.”

Lavellan leads the way up the stairs from the courtyard to the battlements. They intentionally take the long way around to avoid where Cullen is inevitably working late. They manage to sneak through the castle unseen, and soon find themselves before the door of Solas’s room.

“I have not been in here since we first found Skyhold,” Lavellan offers quietly. “I wonder what has changed.”

“What, you just going to stand there and mutter about it? Or are you going to come in?” Sera has already picked the lock on the door and is strolling into the room like she owns every inch of it. Lavellan follows her in quietly, not sure what to expect.

The room still looks very simple. Not much has changed since Lavellan’s first visit. There is one neatly made bed in the centre of the room, and a simple desk in the corner with a couple of books atop it. No clutter, no fuss. Lavellan can’t imagine Solas having many worldly possessions anyway. It’s a stark comparison to the pile of knick knacks Sera has stacked in the corner of her room. In fact, Lavellan is convinced one of these days Sera’s various collected things will fill up her entire space, and Sera will have to bunk with Blackwall in the stables. Sera seems like a hoarder.

The hoarder makes a noise of disgust at that exact moment. “Ain’t nothing here to poke around in!” Sera sounds disappointed.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Lavellan asks. She is every bit as curious as Sera on the contents of Solas’s private space. While he’s open about sharing what he has seen in his adventures, Solas the person is a mystery wrapped inside an enigma with an extra coat of personal bubble on top. Lavellan wonders if he has any keepsakes of his past, perhaps from family, or old lovers.

“Don’t tell me. You ain’t been here before? I thought he would’ve at least invited you up for some over-the-clothes action if he’s too uptight for the real stuff.” Sera is not exactly a creature of tact.

“Just answer the question.” Lavellan could hear the impatience in her own voice.

“I dunno, a knife of sorts? Some bees, maybe? Anything?” Sera is now flipping the sheets on the bed over to look underneath. “Nothing. Does this guy even eat or what?”

Lavellan, on the other hand, finds her gaze gravitating towards the object sitting atop the books on the desk in the corner. She walks over gingerly, afraid to make even the smallest noise as if it would thunder across the courtyard to Solas’s ears. She traces her long, fine fingers of the object. It’s a very small, but beautifully made copper mirror. The mirror’s edge and handle is made of expertly varnished wood, carved with letters that resemble Elven. The copper in the centre is clear and very reflective. It’s obvious the mirror has been well polished recently.

“What’s that?” Sera pokes her head close to stare at the mirror. “Wouldn’t’ve pegged your lovey dovey for a vain person. Look it how shiny. He must shine the mirror with something.”

“Everybody has mirrors, Sera.” Lavellan answers, feeling slightly irritated now. While Sera doesn’t appreciate an object of such beauty, Lavellan definitely does. In fact, if an opportunity rises in which she doesn’t have to admit to breaking and entering, she intends to ask the elf mage about it.

Before she could admire the mirror further, Sera is already opening the desk and prodding around in there. “AHA!” Lavellan hears the words of what must be victory come from Sera’s lips. “I knew it. I knew he shaves his head!”

Sera brings out what must be the most exquisite knife Lavellan has ever laid eyes on. The handle of the knife is made of ironbark, and the tip of the handle carved into the undeniable shape of a wolf’s head. The blade is small and looks to be made of everite. Even from a distance she can tell the blade is kept very sharp.

Sera slams the knife on the desk loudly and unceremoniously, in a manner that makes Lavellan’s heart ache. Such an object of beauty should not be handled in such a crude manner. Before she can chide Sera for the lack of care, Sera is already pulling out the drawer of the desk and dumping out its contents on the bed.

“What are you looking for now, Sera?” The irritation is growing. This is not how their other pranks went. They did not tear up Cullen’s desk nor vandalize Josephine’s walls. Lavellan picked up the knife gently and is now tracing the wolf carving with her right index finger. The details in the carving was so fine that she had to squint to make out the individual hair on the wolf’s face.

“It has to be here! He has got to, innit? His head can’t be naturally that shiny.” Sera is opening every container which splashed out of the drawer.

“Is this what it’s all about? You wanted to know whether Solas…shaves and polishes his head?” Lavellan can feel her irritation melting away as laughter wells up inside her. She has never considered it before. She has always assumed Solas is bald because he is bald. The look suits him, and that is that. While he is not pretty like Dorian (Then again, who is as pretty as Dorian?), Solas’s charms are very evident. His breadth of knowledge calmness of spirit drew Lavellan closer with every word he formed. As if by magic, his velvet quiet voice banishes any trace of worry or pain she has felt that day. The experience of conversing with him is such a spiritual and ephemeral one that Lavellan has never even considered the shininess of his head until this very moment. Then she bursts out laughing. Now she, too, is curious.

“What? Are you sniffing gas or something?” Sera looks startled by Lavellan’s sudden change in demeanor.

Lavellan joins Sera beside the bed and watches the blonde elf continue to open containers, sniff at its contents, and thrown them back down in disgust.

“You need to help. I don’t know what half this stuff is. It all smells really woody and elfy.”

Lavellan slowly put back the lid on some containers and places those containers back into the drawer. While also studying the contents, she knows most of this is herb mixtures and poultices that Solas has concocted while attempting to bring her back to consciousness after the Conclave. They have no shining or polishing properties unless Solas’s dome appears patchy and green. As Sera grows more and more frustrated at her lack of success, one small clear vial half buried under the drawer catches Lavellan’s eye. She picks it up from the bed and uncorks the small container. Inside appears to be a small quantity of clear shiny oil that smells of...elfroot? No, a mixture of elfroot and spindleweed. The same scent that Lavellan smelled on Solas the last time he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply on the balcony.

“What’s that there? Is that the secret to his shiny head?” Sera asks, undoubtedly because of the silly smile on Lavellan’s face.

“No, just more mage potions.” Lavellan blanks her face and lies. She knows that Sera can’t begin to tell the difference between something a mage drinks and something a mage would potentially put on one’s head to give it some extra shine. She is not ready to share this secret with Sera. The blond elf would only use it to irritate Solas, until Sera gets bored or Solas gets fed up. Lavellan tells herself it’s because she has no interest in breaking up a fight between those two. But if she was honest with herself, she is delighted in sharing in this little secret of Solas’s, even if he has not shared it willingly.

Sera coughs as she sniffs the last jar too eagerly. She throws the poultice on the bed a bit harder than usual and collapses herself on the bed. “It’s natural, then. All that prancing in the woods made his skin glow more than normal. This is a waste, innit? I wanted to take his shiny away and see what he does.”

Lavellan replaces all the contents of the drawer and returns the drawer to its rightful place in the desk. While Sera pouts and laments on the bed, Lavellan sneaks the small vial into a hidden pouch in her pants. Sera may not know the truth, but Lavellan intends to use it to her full advantage. Maybe she’ll use the vial as leverage for the story on the mirror and knife, now that she must give herself away as a thief. Maybe she’ll hold the vial hostage until Solas’s shares his head-shining methods. Maybe she will simply return the vial with a wink and let the elf mage make the next move. The possibilities are endless, and Lavellan can’t help but smirk a little as she and Sera exit the battlement in the dark of night to their separate ways.

She can’t wait to run her hand through Solas’s head tomorrow.


End file.
